Of Apples and Ivy
by Pirate Gyrl
Summary: Oneshot challenge piece. The first time he'd let himself be touched by her, not by choice, but rather a necessity, after a tussle with an innocent looking ivy bush, when she'd rubbed soothing ointment onto his aching body." Please R/R!


AN: _Okay, so after weeks of pondering, writing, re-writing, and then editing, I've finally posted! Yay! I feel so proud of myself. Everyone has really made this come about. I would really like to thank Bunnies Made Me Do It (for putting up with all my questions and her suggestions), Nicolina and Kaikamahine Mai __Hawai'i__ (for being awesome beta-ing and making this happen. You guys all rock!_

_The passage that I chose to write was: _

_"_The first time he'd let himself be touched by her, not by choice, but rather a necessity, after a tussle with an innocent looking ivy bush, when she'd rubbed soothing ointment onto his aching body. He'd learned two things that faithful day when an angry orchard keeper with a loaded shotgun had been chasing them to the edge of the woods. One: Lisa loved to climb. He'd noticed that when she disappeared into the thick foliage of an apple tree, _'to provide some munchies'_ as she gracefully put it. Two: He, apparently, was very allergic to poison ivy. More so than other people. Which had sparkled a memorable comment from his female companion that he must have been rubbing himself with it when she hadn't been looking, because there was _NO WAY _ivy could get _THERE_ by itself."

_I really couldn't help it. I had to write that one!_

_And I challenge . . . dun dun dun BlossomingGDFreak and FluidDegree. I'm PMing you guys the contest rules as we speak . . . er, write._

**Of Apples and Ivy**

The drive had been long. The road went on for miles, nothing but farms and fields on both sides of them, some beginning to grow green, others still brown from the passing winter. Lisa was silently staring out of the closed window, her expression somber. Jackson watched her from the corner of his eyes. Her chin rested lightly on the palm of her right hand; the fingers absentmindedly tapped her cheek. Lisa's auburn hair blew in the cool air coming in from the slightly open window. She sighed, rubbed a hand over her face and turned to him. "I'm hungry," she stated bluntly.

Jackson turned to her, keeping one eye on the road as he stared at her. "How can you _possibly _be-"

"And I have to pee."

"You should have thought about _that_ before we left the last gas station," he snapped.

"Well," she argued, "I didn't have to then. And I've been holding it for almost an hour."

"Leese, look around you. There's nothing out here. Nothing but fields and woods."

"But I really gotta go," she replied, adding a childish whine to her voice just to piss him off.

Jackson sighed and turned the steering wheel, maneuvering the car to the side of the road. He threw the car into park and turned it off. When he killed the ignition he turned to her, his eyes boring into hers. "What?" she asked.

Jackson nodded his head towards the trees. "You said you had to go."

Lisa turned to look at the trees and then turned back to him. "You're joking."

"You said you had to go and there's nowhere else for miles. It's either here or you can pee in a bottle in the back seat," he said, jerking a thumb behind him.

"I don't know what could be out there."

He sighed again. "Lisa, we're in the middle of fucking Kentucky, the worst that could be out there is a goddamn deer. Just go."

Lisa gave a frustrated groan and then threw the door open, swinging her legs out of the car. "If I get eaten by a wolf I am so coming back to haunt you," she said and then slammed the door shut, walking quickly down to the edge of the woods.

He watched her until she disappeared and then turned back to the road in front of him. He glanced in the side mirror, scanning the road behind him. It was the same in every direction. Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Jackson flicked on the starter and turned the radio on, irritated with the complete and utter silence of the empty road. Static from the weak signal filtered through the speakers.

_"Afternoon all you Kentuckians!__ This is Amber Fisher coming to you live from your favorite classic rock station, 101.7 WKYM. I hope all of you are feelin' fine on this bright, windy afternoon. The weather outside is a comfortable seventy degrees, one of those miraculous sunny days that just proves that spring is on its way. Comin' up next to you is a wonderful song from the rockin' eighties. Blue Oyster Cult's _Don't Fear the Reaper_."_

Jackson nearly snorted at the irony of the song playing on the radio. His fingers tapped the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music as his mind wandered somewhere else. He hadn't been able to keep his mind on the task at hand for months now. _She_ was always distracting him. Her little remarks that always seemed to grate on his nerves, the way she was always hungry for things other than _real_ food. But then there were also the times that she had surprised him at how strong she was. Times when it showed her true character and not the sniveling little manager he had once thought her to be.

He remembered a time when they had almost come to blows over a fight that he was sure neither of them remembered. She had swung at him the moment they entered their hotel room. He had shut the door quickly and blocked her blow, grabbing hold of her arm and twisting it behind her. Lisa had refused to give a cry of pain. Jackson knew that, _saw_ that, and let her go, pushing her to the floor and then walking around her to the bathroom and slamming the door, not bothering to lock it. He fell asleep against the wall without realizing it and woke the next morning with a blanket covering him.

It was moments like that that made him realize that their relationship might be something more than either of them expected; something a little more human.

A sudden tapping on his window startled him. The door was jerked open seconds later. Jackson's right hand lowered to the weapon he kept between the seats as his gaze shot to his left. "You almost got yourself killed."

Lisa grinned impishly at him. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

He grimaced. "I don't like surprises."

Lisa groaned, her grin disappearing. "Just come on," she said and grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him from the car.

Jackson almost snorted with laughter as he watched her. She wore a look of pure determination, so eager to get him out of the car. His gaze roamed over her face, taking in the enthusiastic look in her eyes and the appearance of resolve on her face. She was biting her bottom lip as she pulled on his arm.

He pulled his gaze away from her expression and instead looked at the road ahead of them. With an exasperated sigh, he allowed her to pull him out. With a triumphant grin, Lisa led him around the car, giving him just enough time to close the car door. Her hand trailed down his bare arm to his hand and gripped it tightly, his skin tingling where her fingers touched. With an inaudible growl, he yanked his arm from her grasp.

Lisa glanced back at him, startled, as she led him to the edge of the woods and then inside.

* * *

"Watch out, there's a low branch there."

The warning came too late as Jackson's forehead met the low hanging-branch with a dull _thwack!_ "Fuck!"

Lisa repressed her laughter as she looked back at him. He was pressing a hand to his forehead, his eyes clenched shut. "Let me see it," she said and pulled his hand gently away. Her thumb brushed the spot tenderly, her face inches away from his. Jackson jerked back from her, a hint of danger echoing in his eyes. A shudder rolled down her spine.

She pushed away from him slowly and took a deep breath. "You, um, seem fine. Probably just a bruise if anything," she mumbled.

Jackson rubbed the sore spot, muttering under his breath about damn tree branches being in the way as he began to follow her again.

"We're almost there," Lisa called back, refusing to look behind her. She didn't want to see his hateful expression again. "It's just ahead."

"How deep are we?" Jackson asked, his eyes searching the thick woods around them.

Lisa shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's nice to hear."

"It doesn't matter. Just be patient."

"Leese . . ."

"Oh just be patient Jackson. It's worth it."

Sunlight peeked through the edge of the leaves, highlighting the trees and bushes. "It's just up here," Lisa said, excitement beginning to bubble up in her chest. She finally pushed through the trees, pulling Jackson with her. "Look!"

Jackson looked around them and ran a hand through his hair. "Leese, it's a bunch of trees."

"No, it's an apple orchard," she stated smugly. "And it's beautiful. You don't get many places like this in Florida."

"You have orange trees."

"It's not the same."

"It's still a fruit."

"It's not the same."

"They're trees."

Lisa groaned in frustration. "And the main types of trees you find in Florida are palm trees. Stop arguing with me."

Jackson gave an irritated grin in response.

Lisa stared around her, basking in the late afternoon light, her eyes turned up to the tree branches above her. She smiled as she closed her eyes, allowing the sun to warm her face. "It's beautiful," she observed.

"It is," she heard him whisper.

Lisa turned to look at Jackson and for one brief moment, not even half a second, there was a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazed at her that she hadn't seen before. It was gone before she could blink leaving Lisa to wonder if she had actually seen it or if it had just been a figment of her overactive imagination. When he stalked past her, saying nothing, his hands buried deep in his jeans pockets, she knew she had to have imagined it.

Lisa followed behind him silently, her gaze roaming over the thick trees full of dark green leaves and plump red apples. A twinge in her stomach called Lisa back to the predicament she was in. She was still hungry. If she didn't eat soon she knew her stomach would growl, she would then get embarrassed, Jackson would make some snide comment as he always did, she would wind up trying to hit him for being an ass, he would dodge and then they would once again be in that cycle of fighting, apologizing and then spending days avoiding any subject that could piss them off again.

A smile crossed Lisa's lips as she stopped in her tracks, her gaze still staring up into the trees, one hand rising to shield her eyes from the bright setting sun. Lisa slipped off her white shoes and grabbed hold of the lowest branch of the tree next to her. She swung her leg up, wrapping it around the branch, anchoring her.

"What are you doing?"

Lisa dropped her head, her hair hanging down. "Climbing," she replied, a childish grin crossing her face.

"Why?" Jackson asked, cocking his head to the side to take in her upside-down position.

"To provide us with some munchies," she stated simply.

Jackson simply shook his head as Lisa swung herself up, sitting neatly on the branch. She stood up slowly, placing one foot in front of the other to balance. She lifted her leg again, her skirt sliding up her leg. Jackson cleared his throat and looked away, shifting his gaze anywhere but at the woman climbing the tree.

"Leese, we really shouldn't be doing this," Jackson said, ever the voice of reason, of safety. That voice was really beginning to annoy her.

Lisa stared down at him, one bare foot propped on the branch below her, the other braced against a limb knee high. "Oh come on, Jackson. There's no one around. It's not like we're robbing a bank."

"I think that would be moderately safer than this."

Lisa simply laughed and pulled herself up higher. She sucked in her breath as she looked at the scenery in front of her. The setting sun blazed over the treetops, highlighting the green of the leaves. The sky was a brilliant array of colors; the purples and oranges blending together and glowing through the translucent, wispy clouds.

"Would you just hurry up, please?" a voice snapped below her.

Lisa jumped slightly, almost losing her balance until her hands found purchase on the limb closest to her. "Frickin' bossy bastard," she muttered under her breath. Lisa reached up and grabbed a plump apple and held it out. "Heads up!" she called, right before she dropped the apple.

* * *

"Heads up!"

Jackson looked up just in time to see an apple dropping towards him. He dodged just in time, the apple landed with a loud thump on the ground next to him. "Shit!" He heard laughter above him and shot a glare into the thick foliage of the tree. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?"

"I don't know," he heard her faintly call. "Would it make my life easier."

Three more apples were dropped towards him before he could reply. "I'm the safest thing you've got Leese," he reminded her, glaring up at the place he thought she was standing. He heard a sigh of exasperation filter through the leaves and grinned. His grin grew wider as the words "cocky ass" made it to his ears.

Sudden silence in the tree caused Jackson to peer up into the thick leaves. "Leese?"

"Shit. Jackson we gotta go," she replied. He could hear the leaves above him rustling as she began to make her way back down.

"What is it?"

"We just need to leave."

"Why?"

"Why do you always argue?"

"Why do you always evade my questions?"

"The orchard keeper is coming. He doesn't look happy."

Jackson's head jerked around, his eyes flicking around in the late day light. He could see no one, but did not doubt what Lisa had seen. "Come down."

An angry shout preceded the arrival of the orchard keeper. "Hurry up," Jackson hissed.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Lisa hissed back. "If I fell you'd have to carry me out of this place and that would just slow you down."

"Who said I wouldn't leave you?"

"After dragging me all this way?"

"It might make my life easier," he replied sardonically, copying her earlier retort.

A soft thud followed by a grunt behind him caused Jackson to turn around. Lisa was crouched on the ground hurriedly putting the four apples into her skirt. "Leese, we don't have time for this," he snapped, his eyes going down the aisle to see the angry orchard keeper running towards them, a shotgun in his hand.

Lisa jumped to her feet, one hand clutching the folds of her skirt, the other carrying her shoes. Lisa shrugged at his look. "It'll be easier to run barefoot."

"Whatever," he muttered and took hold of her wrist, pulling her along behind him as he ran.

They could hear the loud yelling behind them. The distinct sound of a gun cocking caused Jackson to pick up speed. A yelp from Lisa followed by loud cursing made him grimace. She stumbled slightly. Jackson adjusted his pace, stepping back slightly to grab her around the waist. It reminded him of the time they had been hunted through a street fair, people from his old company chasing closely behind them. It had been close but they managed to duck away just in time.

They had just made it to the edge of the woods when the shot rang out. Using all of his strength, Jackson pushed Lisa into the thick trees with the hand that had been around her waist. The bullet whizzed by them, embedding itself in a massive tree trunk. An upraised root caught hold of his foot and before Jackson could untangle himself, he tripped, landing face first into a bush just to the left of him.

The leaves clung to him as he attempted to right himself. Lisa backtracked slightly and grabbed hold of his upraised hand, yanking him to his feet. She still held onto her skirt her shoes tucked between her fingers, the apples still bundled neatly in her makeshift basket. He had to admire her for that. When she wanted something, she took it. Her frantic gaze swept to their left as the leaves and bushes rustled from the way they came. Jackson pushed himself up and shifted his hold on her, grabbing hold of her wrist again.

"Just a little further," he panted, not looking behind him.

A wave of relief broke through him as they exited the other side of the woods, their small red Passat waiting where they left it on the side of the road. Sweat drenched them both as they made it to the car, Jackson reaching into his pockets for the keys that the owner had conveniently left in the car before they had stolen it. The car started easily and Jackson put it in gear, speeding away from the side of the road, the tires digging into the soft dirt.

Jackson glanced into the rearview mirror, checking to make sure no one had followed them.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Lisa whispered as she laid her head against the head rest. Her eyes closed as she let out a quick puff of air. "All the running, you know?"

Jackson spared a glance at her from the corner of his eye. "It gets easier."

"If you mean I'll get used to it, then forget it. I don't want to get used to it."

Lisa turned to him and Jackson could see the half eased panic in her eyes. His hand itched to reach out to her, to caress her cheek, to offer some form of comfort that could possibly ease what she was feeling. There had been times like this before. Times when she had been crying. Times when she would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare that he was sure was caused by him. Times when she would simply stare out of a hotel window saying nothing with sadness in her eyes over everything that she'd lost.

His hand clenched and unclenched on his leg, still fighting the desire to console her. His arm lifted slightly and he forced it back down. But Jackson knew he was going to have to do something. He couldn't touch her face, he knew that. Jackson reached over without pulling his eyes from the road and grasped her hand. Lisa looked down at their joined hands with surprise for a moment and then allowed a smile to cross her face. She squeezed his hand slightly as she turned her eyes back to the front, accepting his subtle reassurance.

He would settle for this.

* * *

The itching had come later. A little at first, just a small amount like a mosquito bite but then launched into something much more massive. Which then erupted into an allergic reaction to every plant that he had touched that day. Every part of him itched; itched to point of being painful. Lisa knelt next to the bed, sorting out the supplies she had just picked up from the local convenience store, her hair tied back in a short ponytail. She pulled out a tube of lotion and lifted herself up slightly, still kneeling on her knees next to the bed. She had already given him some Benadryll, something to help him breathe a little bit easier.

"Okay," she said, her eyes glancing over Jackson's exposed skin. His hands were clenched on the bed next to him, his jaw clenched. Little red splotches covered his body. "Let's do this."

"I can do it myself," he spat, the itching making him ornerier than ever.

"Ha! You'll scratch." When he opened his mouth to respond she stopped him. "Don't argue with me, you know you will."

She turned away from him for a moment, squirting a fair amount of calamine lotion in her hand. He was always so damn stubborn. Every time she tried to help him he would push her off. Lisa wasn't sure if it was him trying to be chivalrous or just a jackass. Maybe he was just being a man.

Jackson took this moment to furiously scratch at his terribly itching skin. A sharp smack to his hands stopped him. His gaze shot up to hers, filled with half anger and half incredulity that she had dared to smack him.

Of course, after everything else she had done to him, it wasn't that impossible.

"Stop scratching!" she cried. "So help me Jackson if you keep scratching I'll tape your damn hands together so you can't!"

Jackson stared up at her, his eyes wide. A sudden burst of laughter erupted from his mouth. "That is the funniest fuckin' thing you have ever said."

Lisa's eyebrows rose. "I'm dead serious. Keep scratching and I swear to God I'll find some way to make you regret it." The laughter died on his lips. "Now settle down so I can put this lotion on since you won't let me take you to a doctor."

"How can we go to a doctor Leese? We're staying off the fuckin' radar."

Lisa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah I know," she replied, rubbing a squirt of lotion onto his right leg. "Did you at least take the Benadryll I got you? So that you don't die of anaphylactic shock anytime soon?"

"I never knew you cared."

Lisa shrugged, keeping her eyes on the task at hand, not allowing her gaze to roam anywhere but where her hands were. "I figure I should keep you around for a little while longer."

She was hesitant; her hands were shaky. Lisa took a deep breath, struggling to calm her pounding heart. What was she doing? This man continuously put her life in danger and now here she was helping to ease his misery. And to top it all off she had to be totally off her rocker to even _want _to help him. She looked up after a moment with a sigh, her gaze staring at the thick hotel room curtains as if trying to see through them. Her hand rested lightly on his shin. Her thumb unconsciously rubbed gently on his skin.

The slight tensing of his muscles beneath her fingers caused Lisa to abruptly pull her hand away, her heart pounding in her chest. Not giving him the chance to say anything about her pause, she started to rub the lotion in again, stopping after a moment to add more calamine lotion to her hand.

A soft snort filtered down to her when she rubbed the ointment on his foot. Lisa's eyes shot up to his face. His lips were in a thin line, pressed together to stop any sound from coming out. But she could see the corners of his lips slightly turned up in a smile. Her hands halted for a moment as she watched him. Then she trailed one finger up the bottom of his foot from his heel to his toes. A snort sounded again and he squirmed under her ministrations. Wait . . .

"Are you ticklish?"

Jackson's eyes shot open. "No," he spat, a little too quickly.

Lisa merely laughed, but didn't push it.

They were quiet as she continued to rub the lotion over his skin. Her hands gently spread the ointment over his arms and hands. Lisa's heart began to pound as she rubbed the balm over his chest, her fingers tracing every contour, every curve of the lithe muscles of his abdomen. She could feel the hard muscles beneath his soft skin, knew of the strength he possessed. Her fingertips touched the band of his boxers, still spreading the lotion on his exposed skin.

* * *

He had tried to hid the itching, the scratching. Jackson would turn away from her when the need to scratch arose just so she wouldn't notice.

Of course it didn't work out that way.

Lisa noticed the minute they entered the hotel room. She grew concerned and motherly over the growing red splotches; just something he did not need. And now she was helping him, _touching_ him, and he couldn't be more irritated about it.

Jackson didn't want her help. He had to keep his eyes closed, had to bite his lip against the feel of her hands on his skin. Every time she touched him felt like someone rubbing splintered wood against his bare skin. Wait . . . why had she paused? What was she doing? Why was her thumb tracing small circles against his skin?

Jackson's muscles tensed as he readied himself to push her away and finish the job himself. Before he could do anything, Lisa jerked her hand away and then slowly began to rub the lotion on his leg again, pretending nothing had happened.

He had to fight himself as she moved methodically down over his body. He hadn't been able to control the snort of laughter that broke through his steely resolve when she brushed the bottom of his foot.

His eyes snapped open as Lisa paused and then tentatively trailed one finger along his foot. Jackson tried to suppress the laughter but once again a snort broke through. He tried to get his foot away from her.

"Are you ticklish?"

"No," he spat, the anger building up in his chest at her inane questions and constant touching. He heard her laughter as she simply moved up his body, rubbing in the soothing lotion. Jackson's hands curled into fists at his sides. His eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling as he tried to take his mind off his present situation. Her hands were every where; all over his skin. And no matter how much she was making him feel better-and damnit she _was_- he couldn't help but feel as if his skin was crawling under her touch.

It was when her fingers brushed the rim of his boxers that he finally moved. His hand shot down to grasp hers, stilling her movements with ease.

* * *

Lisa looked up into his eyes and she noticed, for the first time, she believed, a slight blush running across his cheeks. "I'll, uh, I'll do that."

"Oh." Confused, Lisa looked at him. She turned her attention to where he held her wrist and then back up to him, realization slowly dawning on her. Her eyes widened. "_Oh_."

He held a hand out for the calamine lotion and Lisa hastily handed it to him. "How did it get _there_?" she asked. Jackson merely sighed and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. "What did you do? Rub yourself with it?"

Jackson didn't reply as he slammed the door with more force than he had intended and locked it. Lisa slumped backward, her back hitting the side of the bed as her head dropped into her hands. Her heart had not settled; it still beat erratically. She tried to calm her breathing, tried to force herself to calm down. All she had done was help him, soothe him, _touch_ him. Lisa groaned inwardly. She did _not _need to be thinking of this.

* * *

Jackson leaned against the bathroom door after he locked it. His heart had begun to pound when her gentle hands rubbed his itching skin. He wrote it off as just his hatred for the woman that ruined his life. The sudden return of his itching skin reminded him what he was doing in the bathroom. A frustrated groan erupted from his chest as he finally gave in to the burning need to scratch, a relieved moan escaping his mouth. A pounding on the door startled him. "Stop scratching!"

He laughed softly. She amazed him every time.

* * *

AN2: 101.7 is an actual radio station in Kentucky. Amber Fisher, however, is my own creation. If, by chance, she's an actual DJ, then it is purely coincidental. I also did some research on apple orchards. Most are open during late winter, but there are other orchards that did not give a strict open date. I played with that a little. Here is the site for reference: www dot allaboutapples dot com/ orchard/ ky01 dot htm.

I hope you enjoyed!


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